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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555637">Keeping Company</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cranberrytaboo/pseuds/Cranberrytaboo'>Cranberrytaboo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Half Life VR But The AI Is Self-Aware</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Academic Stress, Aka the author projecting onto Gordon HARD again, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted robbery, Gen, I guess we could call this cat burglary?, Pre-Canon, Reluctant Cat Owner (?) Gordon Freeman, Runaway Pet, Studying for Tests, That someone else finds, What trauma will he work through next?, a brief description of two dead soldiers but it isnt very graphic, aka gordon loses his arm AGAIN, also, vague depictions of body trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:27:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cranberrytaboo/pseuds/Cranberrytaboo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>MIT Junior Gordon Freeman makes a new friend in the form of a stray cat he finds on campus. But surely, it's only a chance meeting, right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>to be added</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic idea came to me recently while I was bored at my desk. Thus, it is very spur of the moment.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gordon's time at MIT had been marked by a particular loneliness, up to a point. </p>
<p>Ever since grade school, he'd always been a bit of an outsider. He had trouble making friends with other kids, and dealt with his fair share of bullying. It wasn't for lack of trying. He'd put himself out there plenty of times, and tried several different sports teams in an attempt to build some sort of rapport with his classmates. But even once he'd settled on the swim team, there was always a strange separation between him and the other members. </p>
<p>By the time he got to university, he wondered if there was just something wrong with him that made him unlikeable. <br/>
It was late autumn in his fifth semester, and he was walking back to his dorm, scarf tied tight to keep out the chill wind. So caught up in his thoughts about his own self-worth, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt something warm brush against his calf. </p>
<p>He took a large step back, looking down to see a black cat sitting in front of him, seeming almost surprised by his reaction. It looked up at him for a moment, then started approaching once more, bumping its head against his ankle with renewed energy. </p>
<p>"Oh, it's just a cat... Jesus, you scared me, bud." Gordon knelt down to get a closer look at the animal. It didn't seem to have a collar or any other identifying information. He wondered if it was microchipped, or if it was just a stray. Its fur was short, a rich, velvet black color, and its eyes were bright. It opened its mouth to meow, then yawned mid-sentence, as it were. </p>
<p> Gordon laughed quietly. "You're cute, huh." He carefully held his hand below the cat's face, waiting for it to respond. It stared at his hand before brushing its face against his fingers. "Do you not have an owner?" He smiled as he felt the cat's rumbling purr against his fingertips. </p>
<p>Finally, he looked around, a little embarrassed. "I'd probably get some weird looks for talking to a cat," he murmured to no one in particular. He reluctantly rose to keep walking to his dorm. The cat stretched, then began trotting behind him. He chuckled again in response. </p>
<p>"Look, buddy, you're cute, but I can't have a cat in my dorm. Besides, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to sneak you past the front desk." He paused for a moment. The cat looked at him expectantly. "Buuut... I can bring you down something to eat. I have... I might have some canned tuna. Or like, ham." Another beat. "I'll be right back." </p>
<p>With a sudden burst of vigor, Gordon hurried up the stairwell to his dorm, breezing past the front desk and barely flashing his ID. Panting after reaching the suite on the fourth floor, he threw his own door open, hurrying to the mini fridge set up in his room. He dug around a while until he found what he was looking for-- it turned out to be chicken, not ham, but stray cats weren't picky, right? He tucked some of it into a ziploc bag and hurried back downstairs.</p>
<p>As he looked around, his heart sank. He didn't see the cat anywhere. "Dammit, of course he wouldn't stick around, he can't understand what I'm saying..." Gordon huffed, sitting down on a curb and folding his arms over his knees. He didn't understand why the cat taking off upset him so much, but he felt particularly miserable about it. </p>
<p>He'd only sat there for a few moments, feeling sorry for himself, when something brushed against his shoulder. He looked down to see the cat once again, and his face lit up at once. </p>
<p>"There you are..!" Gordon reached out to scratch the cat fondly under the jaw, laughing as the cat leaned into the touch. "I thought you'd taken off, and I didn't know if I'd ever see you again." He reached into his coat pocket to pull out the bag of chicken. "And after I went through the trouble to get this for you."<br/>
He carefully set the chicken up in a little pile in front of the cat, watching with satisfaction as the cat sniffed it, then started eating it eagerly. He smiled warmly. "Good, huh?" The cat looked up and trilled appreciatively.</p>
<p>Gordon looked back up towards where his room would be. "I wish we could keep pets..." He sighed. "I shouldn't name you, you're not my cat and I'll definitely get attached, but... what the hell, I'm already attached as it is. How about I call you Buddy?"<br/>
He took the cat's relative silence as an agreement. "Okay, Buddy. Then, I'll see you around. Stay out of trouble, okay?" </p>
<p>Gordon reluctantly left Buddy behind to return to his dorm, looking back a few times and feeling a little bit guilty. Buddy simply watched him go, blinking slowly. </p>
<p>Back at his dorm, Gordon sat down at his computer, pulling up a search engine and typing into the field: deli chicken bad for cats? He sighed at himself internally. He was fighting a losing battle, wasn't he?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the course of the next few weeks, Gordon had left campus to go buy dry cat food from the nearby grocery store, as well as a feather toy that he couldn't resist picking up. He'd brought food down to Buddy semi-regularly. Buddy, for his part, only ate it occasionally. Gordon assumed that someone else must be feeding him as well. </p>
<p>As winter set in, Gordon started to worry about Buddy. Would he be okay in the cold? Buddy seemed like a mature cat, so surely he was used to winter in Boston by now, right? Regardless, he found himself researching handmade shelters for stray cats when he heard a tapping sound at his window. </p>
<p>Expecting a crow, Gordon jolted when he looked and saw Buddy, paws against the windowsill, meowing to get his attention. </p>
<p>"Buddy?! How did you--" He rushed over to the window, exhaling in relief as he noticed the emergency stairway hugging the side of the building. "You can't come in, Buddy. I'm sorry. We aren't allowed to have cats."</p>
<p> Buddy meowed again.</p>
<p> "I know it's cold, but I can't have you in here. I could get in serious trouble with the RA. I might get expelled, even."</p>
<p> "Mrrrraaaow." </p>
<p>"I'm really sorry, Buddy. Look, you know I want to, but--..."</p>
<p>"Brrrrah?"</p>
<p>Gordon sighed and slid the window open just enough that Buddy could slink in. "If I lose my housing over this, it's your fault if the next guy to live here hates cats." </p>
<p>Exasperated, Gordon flopped down on his bed. His mind was racing. He didn't do shit like this, right? Blatantly breaking the rules could put his position in peril. His thoughts only stopped as he felt a weight drop against his chest. Buddy was standing on top of him, and once they made eye contact, the cat plopped down and curled up against him. Gordon stayed silent for a moment, then lifted his hand to scratch between Buddy's ears. Even if this did end up biting him in the ass, it would be worth it, for Buddy's sake. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He did set some ground rules with Buddy, of course. Buddy wasn't allowed to go into the common area of the suite, where Gordon's floor-mates would surely see him. That meant the shared kitchen and the bathrooms were off limits. Buddy also couldn't scratch at any of the walls or furniture, as the RAs would suss him out immediately. </p>
<p>Gordon also had to make some rules for himself. Buddy was allowed to come and go as he pleased, so Gordon felt fortunate that he didn't have to worry too much about getting a conspicuous amount of cat supplies, but he did end up vacuuming more regularly in order to keep the cat hair at a minimum. He did more laundry, too, and kept a lint roller at the door to prevent anyone catching on. Honestly, it seemed to be a positive change overall. He was taking better care of himself in some aspects, anyway. </p>
<p>One evening, he returned to his room with an armful of freshly-dried bedclothes, swung the window open, and dropped onto the bed, exhausted. Balancing schoolwork and chores between smuggling a cat into his dorm had left him with little downtime. He listened for the sound of Buddy hopping in through the window. He smiled as he heard tiny footpads against the hardwood floor. </p>
<p>"Mrrrr?" It sounded like Buddy's mouth was full. </p>
<p>"CoOORGH--"</p>
<p>Gordon sat bolt upright. In Buddy's mouth was a fat pidgeon, squirming and cooing violently. </p>
<p>"Buddy, no, let that thing go--!!" Gordon dropped to the floor to wrestle the poor bird out of Buddy's mouth. The moment it was free, it did a dizzy lap around the room before zooming out the window. </p>
<p>Buddy yowled, sounding put out. Gordon sighed. </p>
<p>"Sorry, Buddy..." He flopped down again, feeling even more tired. Buddy hopped up onto his chest again, staring at him expectantly. </p>
<p>"... Thank you, Buddy. You did good." </p>
<p>Buddy seemed satisfied, and curled up against his chest, rumbling like a motor. Gordon smiled, feeling his exhaustion slowly melt away. </p>
<p>The next morning, when confronted by a concerned suitemate about the noise, Gordon simply told him the bird had gotten in on its own. After all, these things happened all the time, right? </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gordon learns about intuition and has a brief meeting with his close confidante.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Read the tags, folks, there's some drama up ahead. Nothing horribly exciting, I'm afraid. </p>
<p>Me at the beginning of this year: I'm gonna write fics that have a strong and consistent overarching plotline!</p>
<p>Me at the end of this year: I'm literally only writing to comfort myself at this point and I think that's really valid of me.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the holidays ended and the next semester started, Gordon found himself getting used to everyday life with a cat. He didn't really consider himself a cat <em>owner</em> in the strict sense, since Buddy had essential free reign over campus, However, he found it comforting and heartwarming that Buddy still came to his window every day. </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Buddy didn't care about the vacuum, and wouldn't so much as crack an eye open while Gordon was using it, even if he was napping. Buddy did hate the mop with a passion, though, and would set to attacking it any time Gordon brought it out. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Unfortunately for Gordon, he had to bring it out often, because Buddy would frequently get onto his desk and try to drink whatever he was drinking, be it water, coffee, or a canned energy drink. Buddy would also usually spill said drink all over the floor in the process. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Every time, Gordon would sigh and get out the mop, which would set Buddy into a frenzy. Gordon would grumble and wipe at the floor while Buddy wrapped his arms around the neck of the mop, biting and tearing at it with his back paws while trying to wrestle it out of Gordon's hands (often succeeding, Buddy was ridiculously strong for a cat).</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Eventually, Gordon caved and bought a thermos, keeping it capped whenever he wasn't actively drinking from it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>While Buddy would let Gordon pick him up or move him around, he seemed to be pickier about other people. Sometimes, he would let another student pet him while he wandered about the campus, other times he would either bolt or use his paw to push the other person's hand away. He didn't let anyone else carry him, though. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon also noticed Buddy would react to people based on how Gordon himself felt about them. If someone Gordon was on good terms with was nearby, Buddy wouldn't be bothered. However, if, for example, a classmate that Gordon didn't see eye to eye with approached, Buddy would clamber up Gordon's leg and to his shoulder, leering at the other party all the while. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>A part of Gordon found it all a little bit fantastical, like some children's story. He'd remembered hearing before that animals had a strong sense of intuition, but he didn't really trust his own intuition as much, so surely it was more that Buddy was just picking up on his body language and reacting.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thinking as much, Gordon couldn't understand Buddy's reaction when he invited a classmate over to study for an upcoming exam. The two of them hadn't been in the room for more than a few minutes before Buddy showed up at the window, yowling and smacking his paws against the glass. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The classmate, an astrophysics major named Tyler, jolted, then looked over. "Uh, Gordon? Does that usually happen?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, I'm sorry." Gordon looked around. "Look... don't tell anyone about the cat, okay? He's a stray who's been hanging around lately. He's totally harmless, and he's a super sweet cat..." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright, alright, I won't tell." Tyler held his hands up reassuringly. Buddy glowered at Tyler from the window, then started clawing at the windows.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon winced, covering his ears against the horrible screeching made by claws against the panes. "Ugh, he's gonna scratch the glass if I don't let him in. He's kind of finicky, so don't try to pet him unless he comes to you, okay?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure, sure."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The moment Gordon cracked open the window, Buddy squeezed his way through, eyes bugging as his head pushed through the narrow gap. Gordon snorted, then leaned down to scratch between Buddy's ears. Buddy wrapped his tail around Gordon's leg and stared at Tyler intently. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I think your cat doesn't like me." Tyler sat on the bed, looking uneasy about being in the room with a cat that may or may not hate his guts. Gordon waved a hand.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't worry, he's just kind of picky about who he goes to." Sitting beside Tyler on the bed, he opened his textbook, flipping through to the first chapter on dark matter. "So, astrophysics is your major, right? I guess it makes sense that there's a lot of overlap in our course lists..." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon's attempts at small talk were... attempts, at least, and the two chatted briefly before settling down on studying. At some point, Buddy sauntered over, climbing onto Gordon's lap and curling up without breaking eye contact with Tyler once, and going as far as to growl quietly in his throat as he stared. Gordon laughed quietly. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Buddy, it's okay-- Well, at least he's not trying to sit on my textbook like he usually does." Gordon scratched between Buddy's ears, chuckling as Buddy started purring despite still glaring at his classmate. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>After a couple of hours, Gordon carefully moved Buddy onto the bed so he could stand up, stretching his arms and legs. "I need to run to the restroom, if you don't mind. Do you want something to drink, or...?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tyler nodded. "Could I get some coffee, actually, if you have it?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sure thing. I'll be back in a minute." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon stepped out of the room and sighed. What on earth was Buddy's issue? He couldn't stop wondering and worrying about it, He'd heard about cats being more easily upset when they were in pain or sick. Was Buddy hurt somehow? He felt wracked with guilt just thinking about it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As he was putting on coffee, he heard a commotion coming from his room, in the form of muffled yelling and a loud, low yowl, and he felt his heart nearly stop. As he headed to the door, Tyler burst out of the room, seemingly cradling his hand against himself. He shoved Gordon out of the way as he barrelled through. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Christ, get me away from that <em>fucking</em> cat--!" Before Gordon could stop him to ask what happened, he was already out the door and rushing down the hall. Gordon looked down at his shirt, noticing that there was some blood smeared where Tyler's hand had made contact. He felt his face flush and his body prickle uncomfortably as a cold sweat came over him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Buddy? Buddy?!" Gordon hurried back into his room, finding it ransacked. Most of his drawers had been opened, and his wallet was laying open-faced on the bed. He barely paid attention to that, instead going immediately to Buddy, who was standing on the bed in a tense posture, tail flicking wildly from side to side. Gordon scooped Buddy up into his arms, looking him over.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Buddy, what happened?! What did-- oh god, are you hurt? What..." Finally taking in the air in the room, Gordon came to the painful realization that his classmate had just tried to steal from him. A preliminary glance at his wallet told him that the attempt had been unsuccessful, and it was clearly all thanks to the cat that was now purring against his chest. Gordon held Buddy closer against himself, a shuddering breath escaping him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Buddy... Buddy, thank you... But, you could have gotten really hurt! Humans are so big, and-- oh, god, Buddy..!" Gordon sat down on the  bed, curling around Buddy protectively even though the threat had already evaporated. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I should have listened to your intuition, huh...?" He smiled wryly. Buddy had been right to be distrusting, after all. As a response, Buddy simply meowed, yawned, and started licking Gordon's face. Gordon's smile grew gentler and more genuine in response.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Brrrrrrrow~."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I owe you one." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Beyond protecting Gordon from an attempted robbery, Buddy had helped him enormously in many ways, some small, some large. Having a constant presence with him was comforting, and put him at ease. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>On top of that, he'd discovered a good method for forcing himself to study. If he felt like he was going to get distracted, he would simply set Buddy up on top of his keyboard. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay, Buddy. Do me a favor and stay right there, don't let me use that until I've studied for at least an hour or two. I know if I try to use the computer to look anything up I'm going to go down a google rabbit hole." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Buddy would always comply happily for two hours... then three, then four, until Gordon would have to pick him up and move him manually. And of course, Buddy would always complain. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The most apparent improvement in Gordon's life was a clear change of attitude. Professors and classmates alike had commented how Gordon seemed to be in a better mood more frequently, and how he looked far less glum and out of his element than usual. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon's favorite professor, Dr. Kleiner, was very keen on noticing the change- as well as the few black hairs that would crop up on Gordon's lighter-toned shirts. He was absolutely privy to the existence of Buddy, but having been a student at one point himself, he simply winked and put a finger to his lips after broaching the subject with his student one day. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not to worry, I won't tell a soul." He took a sip of his coffee before sliding a book towards Gordon, one that would help with his undergrad thesis. "I mean, of all the trouble you could get yourself into in your university years, keeping a contraband cat is hardly the most damning thing I could think of." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon's anxious expression melted away as Kleiner explained himself, replaced by a charmed half-smile. "Thank you, Dr. Kleiner. And thanks for the rec, too." He picked up the book: an in-depth survey of terrestrial crystal formations and the effects of their wavelengths on surrounding matter. He groaned as he noticed the author's name, a scholar notorious for writing incredibly dry, long-winded sentences designed specifically for patting his own ass.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Isaac couldn't help but snicker at Gordon's reaction. "I know, I know, but unfortunately it's one of the most relevant texts in the field. Now... Please tell me, you're calling the cat Shrodinger, right?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon's hand flew up to his own face. "Augh, that would have been so much funnier!" He chastised himself internally. "No, I didn't think about that in the moment. I just call him Buddy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Raising his brows at Gordon's sudden reaction, Kleiner chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, it's fine. I'm sure every physicist and their grandmother have named their cat Shrodinger anyway, it's trite. Buddy is a cute name, all things considered." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The comment seemed to revitalize Gordon at once, and he grinned. "I'll make sure to show you some pictures, the next chance I get. He's really cute, he's super funny, too. Sometimes, when he meows, I swear it sounds like he's saying people words. I'll try to get a video at some point..." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Kleiner listened to Gordon ramble on with a warm, satisfied smile. He was relieved to see his student so full of vigor.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Upon returning to his dorm, Gordon threw the window open, leaving it cracked for fresh air and laying down on his bed, smiling as Buddy stepped up onto his chest and looked him in the face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey, how would you have felt if I called you Shrodinger instead?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>A paw landing against his mouth and staying there as if silencing him told him all he needed to know about how Buddy felt regarding <em>that</em> notion. He cackled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay, message received." Buddy stared at Gordon, blinking slowly before lying down. Gordon closed his own eyes and laid there for a long while, feeling content. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He probably would have stayed like that longer if he hadn't been forced to slam the window shut before Buddy could go after the pigeons trilling on the lawn.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is less a coherent fic and more of a series of vignettes, but I think even those sorts of stories have their purpose.  I am planning to dip my toes into the canon if I continue writing this. I have plans for other characters making appearances, after all...</p>
<p>Am I projecting like nobody's business onto Gordon? You bet your sweet bippy!</p>
<p>I'm leaving it up to y'all's personal interpretation, as I tend to do with most stuff I write into my fics, but I definitely write Gordon with ADHD and anxiety traits because it's what I know, man.</p>
<p>Also, I definitely based Gordon's relationship to Kleiner on my relationship with my own thesis advisor. I always adored Kleiner but man... now I'm horribly protective of Izzy LOL.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gordon takes two steps forward and one big step back.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter gets a little bit sad. Otherwise theres general "Buddy" nonsense.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In time, the frigid Boston winter melted into a warm and welcome spring. The trees on campus grew their leaves once more, and the grounds were resplendent with new green life. </p>

<p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>How frustrating Gordon found it that in the midst of all this warmth and beauty, he found himself consistently trapped in his own room, studying for this exam or writing that paper, or stressing out over applying to the graduate program he would need for his Ph.D. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He groaned as he hefted his backpack full of paperwork up to his dorm-- Dr. Kleiner was allergic to emails, it would seem, and had to print <em>everything</em>-- and dropped them unceremoniously onto the bed to be dealt with later. Like clockwork, he opened the window, only relaxing and smiling once the large black fuzzball had darted into the room. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, at least one of us has some freedom." He knelt down to pick Buddy up, lifting the cat under the arms before cradling him against his chest. He could feel Buddy's rumbling purr reverberate against him, and his smile widened. "I'm happy to see you too." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Brrrrrraoow." Buddy stretched, paws reaching up and kneading at the fabric of Gordon's sweater at his shoulders, and Gordon snorted. It always amazed him how long cat's limbs really were. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I could probably write a paper about how cats defy the laws of physics and earn my degree that way." Gordon sat at his desk, keeping his arms up to let Buddy continue pawing. "How about it, Buddy? Wanna be the subject of the world's most famous thesis?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mmrrraww?" Somehow, Buddy's voice sounded skeptical. Rather than question his own sanity, Gordon decided to play along. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What, you don't think I could make a name for myself as a researcher? After everything I've done for you. Traitor~" He gently shook Buddy in his arms.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"WrraAaAaAaAaow~" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The warbling protest sent Gordon into hysterics, and he cackled, jostling Buddy as his chest wracked and causing him to meow more emphatically, which of course only prolonged the cycle. Finally, he managed to settle down, wiping his eyes with one hand before giving Buddy an apologetic scratch under the chin. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He set Buddy down in his lap, leaning over to check his email and sighing. "Why did I agree to write an undergrad thesis on top of everything else I'm doing? This is torture." He'd always had a habit of talking to himself, so at least with Buddy around it didn't feel so embarrassing. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Pulling up what articles he could find online and lugging over the textbooks for everything else, Gordon set to working on his thesis, stopping only now and again to pat Buddy on the head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Eventually, it seemed that Buddy was tired of sitting around, and he leapt up onto the desk, tearing a page from one of the books before Gordon could stop him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><br/>"Buddy, no! That belongs to the library--" As he tried to catch Buddy, the furry beast darted towards the window, a muffled meow jostling the paper as he looked back. Gordon swore it sounded like <em>make me.</em> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As he jumped to his feet, Buddy hopped out the window, galumphing down the emergency stairs that dressed the side of the building. Gordon started to lean out the window, but quickly changed his mind as he realized how high up he was, and how easily he could lose his balance. "Buddy!! Come back!" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Buddy barely glanced up before continuing to dart out onto the grounds, weaving happily between the legs of unsuspecting students. Gordon slapped a hand to his own forehead before rushing out of the room. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Out of breath from rushing down the stairs and nearly slipping, Gordon barreled past a very jaded-looking security desk, who murmured something about the building having an elevator for a reason and hearing what sounded like a horse galloping down the stairwell, but he barely paid them any mind. He had a cat to catch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>However, there was nothing easy about catching a cat, particularly not a cat as unnaturally deft and fluid-like as Buddy. Every time Gordon thought he was close to grabbing him, Buddy would dodge, or stretch, as if he were shifting his form just enough to stay out of Gordon's grasp. He was meowing away the whole time, trilling like he was having the time of his life, and when Gordon stopped, gasping with his hands on his knees, he could have sworn Buddy looked <em>smug</em>. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>His suspicions about Buddy actively taunting him were confirmed after, during a particular weaving maneuver, Gordon had to force himself to fall over onto his side rather than accidentally tripping and landing on his fluffy friend. Panting, he rolled onto his back, defeated, staring up at the sky as the grass gently waved around his head. He felt a weight against his chest, then his gaze was interrupted by two dark, blinking eyes. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon's legs were sore and achy from overuse after being cooped up for so long, and his brow and the back of his neck were sweaty, but honestly, being outside in the breeze didn't feel so bad. Hadn't he been the one lamenting not being able to go enjoy the warmer weather anyway? Buddy dropped the page onto his collarbone, and he carefully pocketed it before lifting both hands to rub the feline's jaw. "Thanks for getting me out of the house, Buddy." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>After a few hours of playing on the lawn, teasing Buddy with a piece of grass and watching him chase bugs, Gordon reluctantly got up to return to his dorm, tape the page back into the book from whence it came, and make some severe apologies to a very unimpressed librarian. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As time wore on, Gordon grew more worn down. The incessant stresses of higher education were constantly weighing on him, and pressure from home wasn't helping. He'd always had trouble keeping on top of everything, and with all the added responsibilities of applications, deadlines, and expectations from people he was terrified of disappointing, he felt at his absolute limit. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It wasn't like he'd <em>wanted</em> to have a breakdown in front of his cat, but he couldn't really control when Buddy would appear, and one night, he'd just happened to hop in while Gordon was curled up against the wall on his bed with his face in his hands, nearly having a panic attack. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He flinched, at first, feeling the brush of warm fur against his legs, but relaxed quickly, sniffling and pulling Buddy close to himself. Buddy started purring immediately, rumbling like a motor as Gordon cradled him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"God, I'm so scared, Bud..." Gordon wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "What if I fuck everything up? What if I don't get into the doctorate program? Or any program?" He swallowed hard. "What if I don't actually deserve to be here, and they figure that out and kick my sorry ass to the curb?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>In response, Buddy simply stretched upward, pressing his cheek against Gordon's and nuzzling eagerly. Gordon sniffed again, a tear catching on his lashes as he settled. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thanks, Buddy... somehow, you always know how to calm me down." Gently, Gordon kissed the dip between Buddy's brow. With the constant hum of Buddy's purr as a background, Gordon managed to eventually lie down and get some sorely-needed rest. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Truthfully, Gordon needn't have worried. His stellar thesis committee, headed by Dr. Kleiner, ensured that he passed his defense with flying colors, and after weeks of hand-wringing, the university sent Gordon his official acceptance into their doctorate program. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>With light in his chest, he rushed back to his dorm, opened the window, and waited. And waited. And waited.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>At the end of the day, he assumed Buddy was just doing his own thing. After two days, he started to get worried. Three days onward, he began to panic, and started asking around, begging if anyone had seen a big black cat. For all the pictures he showed, all the people he spoke to, no one had seen hide nor hair of Buddy, nor did they seem to have any recollection of any cat on campus that fit the description. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>After several weeks, Gordon gradually stopped asking. After a couple of months, he stopped opening the window. After the new semester, he gave the leftover cat food to a nearby shelter. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>On the day of Buddy's disappearance, many miles away, a young man nearly swerved a military-issue vehicle off the road after seeing a shadowy figure in the rearview mirror. Pulling over, he gripped his rifle close to his chest and threw the side-door open, expression blanking at the sight of a big black cat staring at him and blinking slowly. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, hello. How'd you get in here?" The young man smiled, stretching the scar running along the left side of his face, and closed the door before getting back in the driver's seat. Soon, the cat crawled to the front and settled, purring, against his lap.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well that one felt both like catharsis and like a punch to the gut but don't worry! I have a happy ending planned. There just has to be conflict first.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gordon reaches Black Mesa, and believes that he's seeing things.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter also has a bit of a sadder feel to it, but I swear it's gonna turn up. It's a short transitional chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Oh, you have a dog? That's cool. What's your dog's name?"</p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"...Sunkist."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Following graduation from the undergrad program, Gordon went through several major events in short order. He wrote his dissertation, got his Ph.D, met someone, had a kid, broke up with that someone, and got a new job in what felt like a very short amount of time, despite it having taken several years. For a greater part of the time, he allowed himself to hold on to the slightest hope that he might see Buddy again, but after packing his bags and moving west for New Mexico, he gave up on that, too. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thanks to Dr. Kleiner-- Gordon swore he would happily die for that man at this point -- he'd been hired by Black Mesa not long after obtaining his Ph.D. It was a difficult environment to get used to, his youth and inexperience making the other scientists regard him with less trust and esteem, but he tried his best to get used to it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Unfortunately, like most other major events in Gordon's life, everything went terribly wrong, and now he was trapped in the research facility with sometimes three, sometimes four other people who made it very hard to think straight. While they were all competent in different ways, each one was particularly good at distracting Gordon in such a way that he thought he was going to lose his mind.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As they struggled to escape, they'd found a safe spot to rest for a while. Gordon hadn't noticed until they'd slowed down for a moment that he was trembling, his hands shaking so badly he couldn't even pick up a coffee cup. Dr. Coomer, one of the other scientists, had been nice enough to hold a cup for him, but accepting it made him feel a bit ridiculous, like he couldn't take care of himself. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>After he managed to settle a little, he'd started talking to Tommy, another scientist with a specialization in nuclear physics. Tommy was telling him about his dog. "Do you have any pets, Mr. Freeman?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon cast his gaze away momentarily. "No." Feeling bad for answering so abruptly, he revised. "I had a cat, in undergrad, sort of... He was a stray, but I let him stay in my dorm at night." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Now, Gordon, I know cats are cute, but it's highly irresponsible to let a cat roam outdoors unchecked." Dr. Coomer cautioned in his usual, kind voice.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, that's not it-- I didn't get him from a shelter, he just came around, and--" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tommy nodded in agreement. "Stray cats and outdoor cats can be devastating to the local bird population, Mr. Freeman." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon's shoulders slacked as he gave up. Given Buddy's track record with pigeons, that much was true, at least. "Okay, you're right, I'm sorry. Anyway, he vanished." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bubby, who Gordon recognized as particularly crabby early on, clicked his tongue. "You should have been more responsible." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I get it!" After snapping, Gordon looked at the others in silence, feeling his face heat up. He hadn't realized how much of a sore spot it was, but bringing Buddy up at all, especially his disappearance, was making his nose sting uncomfortably. "Sorry. Let's move on." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>So saying, he glanced in the direction he'd seen the security guard, Benrey, wander off to, considering asking <em>him</em> if he had anyone waiting for him at home, but the guard didn't seem to be paying attention to the group at all. Rather, he was preoccupied doing some kind of dance moves in front of a different guard, who looked slightly nonplussed. Gordon sighed heavily. He was in way over his head. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Despite his initial misgivings about the group, he slowly grew attached to them, and then outright fond. He couldn't recall the last time it had been so easy to tell people that he really cared about them, but he had no trouble letting Dr. Coomer and Tommy in particular know that he loved them and appreciated them. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Benrey and Bubby were another story. They were more outright antagonistic, and in the case of Benrey, mean-spirited in ways reminiscent of a playground bully. Furthermore, they kept going off to the side, and whispering amongst each other, as if there were some secret between them. Gordon felt distrust and suspicion bubble in his gut.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It wasn't enough. He trusted them too far, and they repaid him in kind by selling him out. He could hear them taunting in that dark room, as he was attacked and held in place by soldiers. He only took scant, vindictive comfort, as the knife was driven through his arm, in the sound of trepidation and uncertainty in Bubby's voice, and the surprise in Benrey's. Before he could enjoy even that small notion too much, he blacked out from the pain. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As he slept, he felt a great weight settle itself onto his chest, like he was being deprived of breath. Where would he be when he opened his eyes? Would they let him wake up at all, or would they put him down like a dog? So many variables, so much was uncertain, but somehow, the weight felt comforting, even as his lungs struggled to expand. There was a warmth to it, even a familiarity. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He slowly opened his eyes, minutes or hours or days later, disorientated and in horrible agony. He tried to sit up-- and could barely lift his neck before dropping it. He felt frigid- he attributed it to blood loss- and looked down at himself, finding two things of note. One, his arm was missing. Two, there was a black void where the chestpiece of the HEV Suit usually sat. His breathing started to pick up, like he was about to scream in panic, when the void opened its eyes and looked directly at him, purring loudly. He sputtered in disbelief.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What-- Ah..! Hhh.. No, wait, Buddy?!" Gordon rasped, voice hoarse from crying out and from dehydration. The black void sprouted two ears that twitched as Buddy rose to his feet, staring down at Gordon almost expectantly. "Buddy, Buddy, but, how? That's... That's impossible-" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As he stammered, Buddy leapt down from his chest. He meowed, once, loudly, then sprinted off, out of the compacting room and far, far off, where Gordon couldn't see him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, wait, wait!! Buddy, don't <em>go!</em>" Gordon cried after the disappearing cat, struggling to rise to his knees. His eyes burned and he took a trembling gasp, whimpering. A part of him chided himself. <em>How pathetic you look.</em> After a moment, he grit his teeth, pursing his lips against the desire to weep. He prayed that no one had seen that display.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He chalked the appearance of Buddy up to a hallucination brought on by pain and blood loss, a vision conjured by his mind to comfort him, but even his mind didn't care enough about him to let Buddy stay this time. With wobbly knees, Gordon slowly rose to his feet, blinking spots out of his vision as he leaned against the near wall for support. He would have to push forward. Black Mesa was no place for miracles, after all.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Had he been able to pay attention through the haze of agony, Gordon might have noticed the bodies of two soldiers discarded carelessly to the side, both covered in deep claw marks.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, there it is! How many times and in how many different ways can one man write about Gordon losing his arm... </p><p>I lost a good chunk of my progress writing this mid-way, so I felt pretty discouraged lol. Luckily I was able to remember the gist of it. </p><p>DISCLAIMER: I am not an authority on pets and how to keep them lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gordon and the others go through the motions. Gordon realizes how isolated he is.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kept you waiting, huh?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gordon had always found reunions to be a beautiful and moving affair, but he found nothing particularly moving about how he was reunited with the different members of the Science Team. Well, he was mostly relieved when he found Tommy, yes, and grateful. After the horrible affair of dealing with the Coomer Clones, he was glad that Dr. Coomer was back on their side, as well. </p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He was less than impressed with Bubby, and couldn't help but feel vindicated as the man complained about being stuck in his tube. "You really thought the military was gonna be all friendly with you because you sold me out?" Gordon hummed, flexing his hand and playing at nonchalance. "I think you owe me for all the times you called me stupid and naive, because that's about the dumbest move I can imagine." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bubby's anger flared, and he jabbed a finger at Gordon from behind the glass. "You little upstart! I--" He paused, breathing, realizing his outburst wasn't going to serve him well. "Look, Gordon, I never wanted them to go <em>that</em> far. I just thought they'd..." He paused. What <em>had</em> he thought they'd do?</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I mean, even if they hadn't done it in front of you, they absolutely would have killed me once they were done with whatever it is they wanted with me." Gordon thought about it. "Honestly that may have been all they wanted. They didn't exactly ask questions." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>After making sure Bubby felt sufficiently guilty for betraying him, Gordon finally agreed to let him back on the team, albeit with less trust in his heart. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Benrey was another matter entirely. While Bubby had at least acted sorry, Benrey was utterly unrepentant, going as far as to pretend he didn't know what had happened to Gordon's arm at all. Of course, this was only the second time they found him, as the Science Team had immediately "killed" him the first time. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He didn't change his ways much either, alternating between being constantly in Gordon's path and disappearing completely. Gordon did notice that at least now Benrey was making <em>some </em>effort to help them fight the remaining soldiers, but he chalked it up to Benrey's capricious nature, thinking of him as a person who had no real affiliations, nor allies. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>During one of his many disappearances, Gordon grunted, put out. "Where the fuck is Benrey?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why do you care?" Bubby quipped. "I thought you couldn't stand him." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well," Gordon huffed defensively, "it's a problem for us when we're a man short, when I still can't really fight or shoot a gun." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't worry, Gordon, we can help you!" Coomer smiled warmly from behind his mustache. Gordon briefly thanked whomever was listening that Coomer hadn't called him Dr. Pussy again. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tommy put a reassuring hand on Gordon's shoulder. "Don't worry, Mr. Freeman, Benrey will come back." He smiled warmly. "He just goes off sometimes, and doesn't feel the need to stick around. He's like a cat in that way." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Cats aren't like that." Gordon responded, a little too quickly. "They aren't disloyal, they're more loving than people give them credit for..." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Squeezing his shoulder, Tommy gave Gordon a pitying look. "I guess that's true. You'd know more than I do about that. I've only ever had one pet, Sunkist." He paused, trying to think of a more apt metaphor, but he couldn't. Benrey really was too cat-like. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon tried to put it out of his mind, but when he thought about it, there was truth to what Tommy said. Benrey acted oddly by anyone's standards, but some of his actions were so familiar that it made his heart hurt. Even the constant badgering reminded him of Buddy nagging him and nipping his ankles and shins for attention. Not to mention that sometimes, it seemed like Benrey was made of fluid more than of flesh, and moved in almost unnatural ways... He shook his head hard to clear it. Benrey wasn't a cat, and he wasn't Gordon's friend.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>But there were moments, along the way, where Gordon wanted to believe that they could be friends. Benrey was a jerk, yeah, but he was <em>funny</em>, and sometimes it seemed like he was actively trying to make Gordon laugh. Trying to kiss him in the middle of a reservoir of Powerade had been a little weird, yes, but he prefered that to attempted killing. And as they settled in for the night to try to rest, as Gordon wondered if he would even wake up, given his injury, Benrey asked again what happened to his arm, and it sounded like he actually <em>cared</em>. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As Gordon fell asleep, he made a point of turning his back to Benrey, not looking at him and resolutely stiffening his lips to force himself to keep strong. <em>He doesn't care. You know that.</em> He hesitated, then chanced one glance over towards Benrey, who was still awake. The guard locked eyes with him, then blinked slowly, once. Gordon grit his teeth and turned back, falling into an uneasy, fevered sleep. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Waking up was as strange as it normally was, being pulled out of a bizarre dream and finding himself in a different place than they were when they went to bed. "You guys have <em>got</em> to stop dragging me around when I'm sleeping, it's seriously freaking me out." Gordon stretched and looked around. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Eventually, they found themselves in a small lab run by a chemist-- no, <em>potions master</em>-- who introduced himself as Darnold. Darnold was kind enough to agree to help Gordon with his arm, but not kind enough to not give him a prototype potion that turned his severed limb into a minigun. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, it was never tested on humans," Darnold mused. Gordon shot him a look. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And you gave it to me anyway?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well would you prefer to be armless?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon went quiet because no, he wouldn't have.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>During one of Benrey's prolonged absences, they ran into the same soldier they'd encountered a while back, Forzen. Rather, they found him holding Tommy's dog hostage with a bunch of turrets. Gordon, seeing red and now equipped with a Megaman-esque arm gun, swung his right "hand" in Forzen's direction, left hand gripping tight into a fist. "Drop that switch and step away from it. Slowly." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Forzen stared at Gordon, sizing him up, then scanned the rest of the group. "Ou est le Chat Noir?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What?" Gordon frowned. "I don't speak French." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Gordon, that's very basic French, and surely you've at least heard of Le Chat Noir, right?" Dr. Coomer piped cheerfully. Gordon shook his head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Will you tell me what it means?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Nope!" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon grimaced. Dr. Coomer was usually helpful, but sometimes... Gordon sighed, his left hand now lifting to rest against the barrel of his arm-gun. "I'm not gonna ask again. Let the dog go." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Forzen watched Gordon warily. "Do it. I don't think you can." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Hearing that, Gordon tensed, the armored fingers of the HEV suit clicking against the cold steel of the gun as it wavered slightly. "Don't test me. I'll do it." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Do it, then." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tired of the back and forth, Tommy stepped past Gordon. "Mr. Freeman, if you don't do <em>something, </em>then <em>I </em>will!" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The interruption was enough to give Forzen time to escape, descending from the elevator platform in the middle of the room as the turrets let off a screech of activation. Fortunately, Sunkist was fine, as she was impervious to bullets, and she simply trotted out of the circle of turrets wagging her tail. Unfortunately, the fact that there was a circle of turrets at all meant that now the bullets were flying everywhere. Some of them knocked their "partners" over in the crossfire, but Gordon and the others didn't escape a handful of nicks and close calls. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Once the turrets were broken down and the air cleared, Tommy turned to Gordon, looking frustrated. "Mr. Freeman, why didn't you shoot? What if Sunkist had gotten hurt?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know..! I thought we could talk him down, I..." Gordon's face burned. Between the physical trauma of losing an arm and gaining a gun, the scrutiny and disappointment apparent in Tommy's expression, and the weight of years of unresolved issues culminating in chronic depression, it was almost too much for him to bear emotionally. He felt his eyes sting and tore his gaze from Tommy. "... I'm sorry." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tommy, for his part, seemed a little regretful. "It's... Well, everything turned out okay, luckily. And I mean, it's easy enough to fight someone who's actively trying to kill you, but when you're talking to someone, maybe, maybe it's harder to pull the trigger." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gordon nodded. Surely that was it. The other soldiers didn't try to talk, but conversation was humanizing, and it increased the weight of the lives Gordon had already been forced to take. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't go getting soft." Bubby murmured as he walked past Gordon towards the elevator shaft. "These soldiers are after our lives. They deserve to die." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Coming from you..."  Gordon's voice was a little too quiet. Dr. Coomer put a hand on his shoulder. </p>
</div><div>
  <p><br/>"Gordon, what Bubby means is that, try not to blame yourself too much." Coomer's expression was warm, and his tone was kind, and it took all Gordon had not to dissolve. Instead, he reached out, resting his hand on Dr. Coomer's shoulder in return, and thanked him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Benrey eventually did return, and Gordon tried to ignore the conflicting voices of annoyance and relief that bickered in his head. He tried not to laugh at Benrey's jokes, and failed. He tried not to smile when Benrey insulted him playfully, and failed. Internally, he cursed himself. Benrey still couldn't be trusted. Right?</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was with heavy-hearted disappointment that Gordon realized he was right. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The leap into the teleporter to reach the Border World had been disorientating and confusing, and getting used to the change in gravity was even more difficult. When he realized Benrey wasn't still with them, he felt frustrated, even betrayed. <em>He probably didn't even come with us. </em>Thus, it was quite the shock to see Benrey himself, giant and imposing, looming over the tiny floating island they stood on. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hey bro. Hug?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>A hand came sweeping down for them, and Gordon's fight-or-flight response kicked in, telling him to <em>run, </em>so he leapt, and instructed everyone else to follow. The border planet was full of corridors, mazes, and hiding places, but no matter how far they ran, Benrey was close behind, shifting his body in inhuman ways and uttering sounds that were nigh unrecognizable. Gordon's gut twisted. <em>What the hell is he?!</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>While the Science Team never got to quite understand what Benrey was, they did get a clue into some of his motives, albeit in a convoluted, unparseable monologue that Gordon could only pick up bits and pieces of. What he did understand of it pissed him off. Was Benrey seriously blaming him for the shit Benrey himself had done?</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Regardless, the time for words was quickly over, and the Science Team had to fight for their lives against an enemy unlike they'd ever faced. The battle itself was long and grueling, and there was a time where Gordon was afraid they wouldn't survive, but eventually, something snapped, and Benrey fell. The chamber around them began to quake, and Gordon covered his head and squinted his eyes shut. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He opened his eyes to see himself on a train hurtling through space, and was given a choice. He agreed to the terms that Tommy's father laid out. He'd hoped that victory would have brought him a sense of accomplishment, or at least relief, but as he sat there, eating cardboard-textured pizza that tasted just as good, watching everyone play arcade games and skee ball, he just felt hollow. It was a feeling he'd become accustomed to. Something in his life always left him, leaving a hole in his heart where it vanished. And as he was starting to realize, the Benrey-shaped wound on his spirit was a lot wider and bleeding a lot more than he'd expected it to. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He slowly rose to his feet and walked out into the parking lot, shambling more than striding, head tilted downward. The air was cold around him. It was late at night, and winter, now. As the chill bit at his fingertips, he brought them to his face to blow on them. Looking out past the empty lot and into the landscape beyond, he could have sworn he saw a black cat sat on its haunches, watching him back. It was too far to make out any features, and he stood stock-still, eyes following it as it rose, turning back and trotting off into the inky-black beyond his field of vision. </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I didn't expect to actually keep writing this tbh, I'd lost a lot of inspiration, but I am feeling a little better about it now. </p><p>I never read animorphs but I assume this is what it is like? LMAO. </p><p>I'm not even sure where I'm going with this fic tbh. I think I have plans?</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, I won't lie to you. This fic is brought to you in part by the ongoing twitch tv catboy benrey debacle. If I continue it, the truth will be revealed at some point? LMFAO. I'm sure its obvious that this is about shapeshifting benrey, though. I hope it was a fun read! I love lore-building for Gordon (and everyone else, of course.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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